Let it Will Be

Let it Will Be

Flora_Winters

Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation. It is so wonderful. I'm also not making any money here either.

Summary: Shuichi is kicked out of Yuki's apartment yet again and Ryuichi is there for him with Kumagoro in tow. This is one hell of a crazy ass story and that's for damn sure. Language, MM, Violence

Chapter Twenty-Six

Light, beautiful and terrible as the dawn, came shooting through the writhing darkness, striking him in the face, a swift blow as if coming from the impact of a falling star. A piercing scream shattered the terrible blackness into shards, sending the shadows slithering toward unseen depths.

“I will return!” The God of Darkness bellowed, clawing and hissing with powerful talons as merciless light stabbed his disintegrating flesh. “And I will be stronger than the foundations of the earth!”

Light swept him off his feet, tearing his once majestic wings apart, casting him about the air like a cloth doll. An even stronger wind blew him back, casting him down into the deepest darkness of the swirling abyss.

His wild screaming soon transformed into that of mad laughter. He fell, and he fell, and he kept on falling forever. Chaos is deep, vast, and beyond terrifying. One cannot gaze into its heart and stay sane. Even for a deity such as him, it is impossible. The endless horrors of Chaos spawned all that existed, exists, and will exist.

“Farewell, Deamon,” a weary voice spoke. “Goodbye…my love…my only brother.”

Light danced, shimmered, and flowed onwards like a mighty solar wave. And that was the moment when the sparkling sands of time began to trickle, spiraling ever downwards, between the skeletal fingers of grinning Death.

“Finally,” Death spoke, rolling his nonexistent eyes. A spider scuttled from one empty socket into the other one. His name is Bob. “I can finally get on with it.”

And this is where the real story really begins. For real and for true. Fallen gods, banished gods, gods who tripped, and gods who just don’t give a goddamn. In fact, a few of them are hardcore atheists. They don’t even believe in themselves.

Eiri’s editor looked up from the manuscript, giving him a cocked brow look. The two of them were sitting outside a little café.

“Well?” The blond writer asked her.

His editor removed her sunglasses and tried her best to smile (Botox is a hell of an addiction). “Have you been sleeping all right, Mr. Yuki?”

Eiri glared over his broad shoulder at the ghost, who looked as if he were trying to take a shit on a Shinto priest’s bald head. He quickly looked back at his editor, nodded his head, and continued chewing on a cigarette as if it were candy.

“This is, uh, different to say the very least,” she said to him rather nervously. “In fact, I don’t quite know what to make of it. I think I’m in shock. I had no idea you could do comedy. Ever. Are you sure you wrote this?”

“Yes,” he deadpanned. “I did write it. Well?”

The brunette ran her trembling fingers through her short hair. She even looked a little sweaty to him. Her drink was still untouched. The ice had already started to melt.

“It is very different,” she finally answered him after a few moments of quiet contemplation. “Very, very different from the works your fans adore.”

Eiri spat out his soggy cigarette and began chewing once more on a fresh one. This was exactly what he wanted, needed to hear.

Something new. Something exciting. Something to show the masses (Shuichi) that he could be completely retarded, too.

Fuck cold and untouchable up the ass with a dentist’s un-sanitized tooth drill. He was being haunted by the guy (and rapist) he had loved. It was time for a new Eiri Yuki. An Eiri Yuki who could laugh and not care about who sees it or takes a stupid photo of him doing so. An Eiri Yuki who wasn’t above pointing and laughing hysterically at a Shinto priest who’d just been shat on by a constipated ghoul.

“Goddamn birds!” The old priest cursed, swinging his bamboo wand thingy about. “Your mothers were a bunch of old harpies with dried out cunts! No matter if they roosted on fire hydrants (unplugged), there was no removing that dust! Even Mr. Clean gave the fuck up! Pine Sol’s a weak ass bitch, baby!”

Eiri snorted and his editor gasped in shock. He gave her a broad smile.

“What?” He asked.

She shook her head, downing her iced tea.

“About the cover art,” he told her, leaning back in his chair, crossing his ankles. A cool breeze ruffled his golden hair. “Death needs to be holding up a sign that says HAVE YOU SEEN MY DONKEY? And I want Bob waving a little white flag from one of Death’s eye sockets, too.”

His editor nodded. “I’ll see if I can inspire the correct person to make it so.”

He gave her another white smile. The poor dear turned paler than the napkin in his lap.

They spoke a few moments more and then he waved her off. The new Eiri Yuki had scared the hell out of her.

Oh, well. He would just have to make sure she got used to the new him. Everybody else was going to have to as well.

“Come here,” he spoke to no one normal, sane people could see.

Kitazawa had no choice but to obey him. The spirit grumbled, but obeyed.

“I command you to go spy on Shuichi and do nothing but watch him,” Eiri ordered. “And to come back home the instant I call you this time.”

The poltergeist narrowed his suddenly glowing crimson red eyes.

“Suck on my moldy corpse cock,” Kitazawa snarled, vanishing with a pop, flying to do his bidding.

Eiri rolled his eyes. He got up and made his way to where he’d parked his car.

He was going shopping.

~OOOOO~

Yuki Kitazawa watched Eiri from above with rage and disdain painted all over his handsome face. He was so pissed, he could spit lightning and shit thunder.

“I’ll spy on your little tart,” he hissed, rattling as if he were a poisonous snake. “I’ll spy all right. I’ll spy your goddamn destruction.”

But, he gave sudden pause.

Eiri had said HOME. Had told him to come HOME the instant he summoned.

He shook his blond head.

A mere slip of the tongue. That’s all it had been. Nothing more.

“You murdered me in cold blood,” he whispered the way frost made love to roses, softly killing them in the process. “I’ll see you dead. I’ll see you rot and I’ll watch the bugs love you away to nothing but bones!”

Wrath rumbled deep within him and his pearly tears burned his ghostly flesh.

“…I was going to get us both out of there…I was going to grab the gun before they could…”

BOOM!

“I LOVED YOU MORE THAN ANYTHING!”

Lightning came out of nowhere, striking a streetlamp dead on. Steel was instantly melted and warped.

“What the fuck?” A bulldyke in a bright orange prison uniform growled. “And here I just changed that goddamn light bulb for nothing!”

Yuki Kitazawa hugged himself and vanished.

Bulldykes are scary. They drive really big trucks and bring a U-Haul on the second date.

~OOOOO~

Touma Seguchi slammed the NECRONOMICON shut and promptly fed little plushy Cthulhu the strawberry pocky he’d promised the Old One. The little green critter from beyond the darkness between the stars just ate the yummy shit up.

“He’s just so fucking adorable,” Tatsuha gushed out, holding the Devourer of Souls tight in his arms. “And look, he sparkles in the sunlight.”

Touma beamed. “Don’t look directly in his eyes. It will rot your soul and drive you mad.”

“My soul is already rotten,” Tatsuha smiled. “And I’m pissed as fuck, too.”

Touma bent down. “And you know what you must do, Cuthy?”

The Old One nodded. The alien god spoke in a voice that could scramble an egg.


DEVOUR SHUICHI SHINDOU AND NOT TAKE A SHIT UNTIL I GET BACK HOME.


Touma grinned from ear to ear. “And what will happen should you fail me?”

Cthulhu clicked with his tentacles.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Touma apologized for real-real. “Was that five clicks or eight?”

Cthulhu repeated.

“You got it,” Touma told the deity. “So, you’d better not fail me.”

His eyes glowed greener than the Old One’s mind rattling venom.

Cthulhu hopped from Tatsuha’s lap and waddled from the room.

The dark headed teen looked over at the much older blond. “What will you do?”

Green eyes flashed with their own inner heat lightning. “I just told him that if he fails me, I’m going to send some Shoggoths after him and they know how to kill with just eyeliner alone.”

“Where did you find the real thing?” Tatsuha asked, pointing at the unholy text.

“Ebay,” Touma answered. “Poor Alhazred was desperate.”

Tatsuha laughed. “How’s he doing?”

“He found a most excellent facial surgeon and looks almost as gorgeous as he used to,” Touma replied, lifting up the heavy book from its skeletal stand. “The two of us are going out later to get fucked up and to discuss the ways of fixing the stars right.”

“That’s super,” Tatsuha told him, rising to his sandaled feet. “Just don’t get too fucked up. I don’t want to hear about you and the mad prophet flying a Byakhee into any tall towers.”

Touma laughed. “Please. Only mere minions perform that shit.”

“For serial?” Tatsuha asked, putting his hands on his hips.

“Oh, I’m so serial,” Touma confirmed.

“Speaking of cereal, I sure do love me some Fruit Loops. They’re about as gay as me letting Lex shove that kryptonite dildo up my ass last night.”

Touma turned.

Tatsuha slapped his knee. “Oh, Superman. You make me cream.”

And for no apparent reason, all three laughed.


TBC…